nstitution, this
practice did not prevent her from rising at seven to take a walk through
the garden with Mr. Holt--a custom which he had come insensibly to
depend upon. And in the brief conversations which she vouchsafed the
Vicomte, they discussed his novels. In vain he pleaded, in caressing
undertones, that she should ride with him. Honora had never been on a
horse, but she did not tell him so. If she would but drive, or walk-only
a little way--he would promise faithfully not to forget himself. Honora
intimated that the period of his probation had not yet expired. If he
waylaid her on the stairs, he got but little satisfaction.

"You converse by the hour with the missionaries, and take long
promenades with the architects and charity workers, but to me you will
give nothing," he complained.

"The persons of whom you speak are not dangerous," answered Honora,
giving him a look.

The look, and being called dangerous, sent up the temperature several
degrees. Frenchmen are not the only branch of the male sex who are
complimented by being called dangerous. The Vicomte was desolated, so he
said.

"I stay here only for you, and the coffee is slowly deranging me,"
he declared in French, for most of their conversations were in that
language. If there were duplicity in this, Honora did not recognize it.
"I stay here only for you, and how you are cruel! I live for you--how,
the good God only knows. I exist--to see you for ten minutes a day."

"Oh, Vicomte, you exaggerate. If you were to count it up, I am sure you
would find that we talk an hour at least, altogether. And then, although
I am very young and inexperienced, I can imagine how many conquests you
have made by the same arts."

"I suffer," he cried; "ah, no, you cannot look at me without perceiving
it--you who are so heartless. And when I see you play at golf with that
Mr. Spence--!"

"Surely," said Honora, "you can't object to my acquiring a new
accomplishment when I have the opportunity, and Mr. Spence is so kind
and good-natured about it."

"Do you think I have no eyes?" he exclaimed. "Have I not seen him look
at you like the great animal of Joshua when he wants his supper? He
is without esprit, without soul. There is nothing inside of him but
money-making machinery."

"The most valuable of all machinery," she replied, laughingly.

"If I thought you believed that, Mademoiselle, if I thought you were
like so many of your countrywomen in this respect, I shou